The wind died down, and the sea seemed to have been pressed into silence. Chen Hao leaned against the helm, chewing on a compressed biscuit, his cheeks puffing out. His left hand was still wrapped in bandages; the blood had long since dried, and it itched a little against his skin.
Nana stood in the middle of the deck, her eyes flashing.
She didn't say anything, but she stood up even straighter.
Chen Hao glanced at her. "What is it now?"
“The air pressure is dropping,” she said. “The moisture in the air is almost at its limit, and the clouds are crowding together.”
"so what?"
“There will be a storm within 36 hours,” she said. “Bigger than the one we just had.”
Chen Hao chewed the crumbs of biscuit in his mouth and swallowed them. He looked up at the sky; the dark clouds had dispersed somewhat, but the color was still gray, like a dirty rag hanging in the sky. The sea was so flat that it reflected people's images, without even a ripple.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Are you sure you didn't miscalculate? In this weather, even kites can't fly."
“I didn’t miscalculate,” she said. “Before the last wind came, I said there were seven minutes left, but it was actually six minutes and fifty-two seconds. An error of eight seconds is within acceptable limits.”
Chen Hao recalled that she had indeed told him the time before the wave crashed down. At the time, he had scolded her for exaggerating, but the boat almost capsized.
He blew a whistle, a short, sharp, and piercing sound.
Susan looked up from beside the box, and Carl leaned out from the stern of the boat.
“Recheck the anchor points,” Chen Hao said. “Wrap the tarpaulin around again, and take out the tool bag and set it in place.”
Carl frowned. "You're still messing around after we just finished fixing it? Now the wind's gone."
"Nana said an even stronger wind is coming."
"She's not a weather forecaster."
“But she guessed right three times,” Susan said as she untied the knot. “Once was fifteen minutes before the power went out, once was when the roof was leaking, and just now—if we hadn’t changed course, we might be eating sand on the seabed right now.”
Carl didn't say anything, but squatted down and started pulling on the ropes binding the buoyancy bucket.
Susan opened the supply box and took out the remaining fresh water bags one by one to examine them. One bag had been torn before, and although it had been patched, the edges were already softened. She squeezed it; the water didn't leak, but she still felt uneasy.
“This can’t be left outside,” she said. “If it breaks again, we won’t even have anything to drink.”
"Then put it in the middle," Chen Hao said, "with two layers of cloth underneath."
He walked to the helm and reached out to grip the bar. The gust of wind had scraped his palms, and now the old and new wounds were piled up, hurting at the slightest touch. He switched to his right hand and strained his shoulder.
Nana walked over and stood next to him.
“Teach me,” he said. “If you suddenly crash or fall into the sea, I can’t just stand by and watch.”
What do you want to learn?
"How do I keep the boat steady?" he said. "I don't rely on you to look at the data or tell me the direction. I need to know where the wind is coming from, how the waves are, and which way to turn."
Nana nodded and projected a pattern of light onto the deck. Several dotted lines traced across the ground, like the trails of flowing water.
“This is a simulation of wind and waves,” she said. “Look at the direction of the wave crests and the angle between them and the hull. The larger the angle, the earlier you need to turn the rudder. If you turn too late, you’ll capsize.”
Chen Hao stared at the line and tried to gesture with his hand. "Cut it diagonally?"
"Yes. When cutting through the waves, shift your weight to the inside of the hull and use your legs to support your body, don't rely entirely on your arms."
He did as instructed, bending his knees slightly, trying to feel the balance. But as soon as he moved, his foot slipped, and he almost fell to the ground.
“You’re too fat,” Nana said.
"Nonsense, I'm not a yoga practitioner." He got up, patted his pants, and said, "Let's do it again."
On the third attempt, he was finally able to adjust his posture half a second in advance when the virtual wave shape changed. Although his movements were clumsy, he didn't fall.
“Not bad,” Nana said. “Your reaction speed has increased by twenty-seven percent.”
"Stop giving me numbers," he gasped. "Speak like a human being."
"You're a bit better than before."
"Is this what you call praising someone?" He grinned, then gripped the helm tightly. "Let's do it again."
Susan had already resealed all the boxes. She covered the pile of supplies with double-layered tarpaulins, tied the four corners with tight knots, and added wooden pegs to secure it. She sat down on the side, took out a piece of paper, and began to write something.
Carl finished repairing the last seam. He applied a coat of resin, pressed in small pieces of wood, and finally wrapped it tightly with strips of cloth. He leaned against the stern and looked up at the sky.
The clouds were definitely strange. They weren't the kind that spread out in large swaths, but rather they gathered little by little from afar, like someone was scattering flour from the sky and slowly kneading it into a ball. The air was very stuffy; breathing it in felt like holding saliva in your mouth, stuck there, neither going up nor down.
“It’s so quiet…” he said in a low voice, “It’s terrifying.”
Chen Hao was still practicing steering. His hands were blistered and bleeding again, but he didn't stop. Every time Nana pointed out a mistake, he would repeat it until his movements matched the instructions.
"Cut the waves at an angle, slowly turn the rudder back, and shift the center of gravity to the inside of the hull," he muttered to himself, as if reciting a text.
"Got it?" Nana asked.
"Pretty much," he said. "If the wind really comes, I'll probably still curse, but at least I won't just stand there like an idiot."
“Swearing won’t affect the operation,” she said. “As long as you don’t let go of the handle.”
He chuckled and was about to speak when he suddenly felt the boat beneath his feet sway.
It was a very small bump, like someone gently tapping the bottom of the boat from below.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at Nana.
Her eyes lit up, a flash of blue light that disappeared in an instant.
“Low-frequency vibrations were detected,” she said. “The speed of the ocean currents increased by 40 percent, and the surface water temperature dropped by one degree.”
"What does that mean?"
“It’s the prelude to a storm,” she said. “It’s coming.”
Chen Hao immediately turned around and shouted to the back, "Susan! Put the water bags at the very back! Carl! Go check the buoyancy tanks again! Tie them all up again!"
No one asked why; everyone just got moving.
Susan pushed the last bag of water into the bilge and used two empty boxes to hold it in place. Carl climbed to the stern, untied the buoyancy bucket's rope, replaced it with a thicker hemp rope, and wrapped it three times before tying a knot. He gritted his teeth and pulled the rope tight until his fingers turned white.
Chen Hao returned to the helm and wrapped his hands with new strips of cloth. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on the cloth.
"What state are you in right now?" Nana asked.
"I'm tired," he said. "My hands hurt, and my legs are sore. But I can still manage."
"System monitoring shows your heart rate is high."
"Nonsense, how could I not be afraid?" He glared at her. "If you were a human, you'd be trembling too."
"Fear does not affect judgment as long as you are still moving."
“Of course I’m going to move,” he said. “If I don’t move, who are you going to rely on? You’re going to jump into the sea and swim back?”
Nana didn't reply, but stood in the center of the deck, her eyes flashing continuously as she received the data stream from her surroundings. Her body was slightly warm, and the heat dissipation vents opened and closed rhythmically.
After checking the last anchor point, Susan sat back down beside the box. She took out the piece of paper, on which was written:
Two-thirds of the fresh water remains, enough food for seven days, five screws are missing from the tools, and only half a roll of spare rope is left.
She folded the paper and stuffed it into her inner pocket.
Karl walked back, stood at the bow of the ship, and gazed at the distant horizon. There was nothing there, yet he felt something was approaching.
"When do you think it will arrive?" he asked.
"I don't know," Chen Hao said, "but I know that all we can do now is wait."
"Waiting won't help."
“It’s useful.” Chen Hao gripped the helm. “While we wait, we can finish what we need to do. Once we’re done, we can live.”
Nana suddenly spoke up: "The wind has changed direction."
Everyone looked up.
The sea remained calm, but the air seemed heavier. The canvas overhead moved slightly, a tiny movement, like breathing.
“The wind is coming from the southeast,” she said. “It’s traveling at 3.2 meters per second and is continuing to intensify.”
Chen Hao placed his hands on the rudder and stood with his feet apart.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s not the first time anyway.”
Susan grabbed a spare rope and wrapped it around her wrist. Carl reached into his toolbox and found the small hammer.
Nana's eyes were always shining.
On the distant horizon, a very thin white line quietly appeared.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com